by Paul Kirk
“Set her down, Shamus.”
“Setting down now, major.”
Shamus critiqued the road below with a critical pilot’s eye. At the intersection of Brownsville and Route 51, there was enough space to land comfortably, though several telephone lines and smashed cars on the northern edge did give him pause. Once safely down, he motioned with hand signals and the doors slid open with purpose. Within ten seconds, the men were out and the Superhawk was again airborne, heading toward Coatesville, PA for much-needed replacement parts.
“Mic check. Mic check. Green Team, do you copy?”
“Roger that, captain, two for two.” said Major O’Malley.
Captain Daubney and his team secured their positions below.
“Preparing to advance down Brownsville Road. Over,” said Captain Daubney.
“Understood. We’ll be outta range in a minute or so. Good luck and good hunting. Find ‘im for us, would ya? Over.”
“Roger that, sir. Update. Based on the descending addresses, we have some ways to go to find the map location of 915 Brownsville Road. Over.”
“Understood. Best estimate. Couldn’t be helped, captain. Over.”
“No problem, sir. We plan to see you at the extraction point here in twenty-four hours. We'll sit on it for another twenty-four, if need be. If no go, we’ll meet at alternate rendezvous in forty-eight hours. Over.”
“Roger. Correct. Primary extraction in twenty-four hours at established rendezvous. Twenty-four hours of secondary wait period confirmed. Secondary rendezvous confirmed based on Amanda’s route projections forty-eight hours after that. Over.”
The secondary rendezvous was to be Uniontown Hospital in Uniontown, PA.
“Good luck finding what we need out east, sir. Daubney team out.”
“Understood. Over.”
Mickey completed a comprehensive assessment of the area as they secured their initial drop zone and before they headed northeast from the intersection. Several men took better cover positions while his evaluation continued. Mickey signaled for extra caution; he did not want to walk into an unknown given their recent helicopter insertion.
“Be safe,” whispered Colonel Starkes to herself, as the helicopter pulsed forward and headed east.
On the ground, Captain Daubney slipped beside Mickey, watching the staff sergeant in action. Mickey’s Special Forces skills helped meld the men into a finely tuned team of manhunters. Captain Daubney gave the seasoned veteran the go ahead to lead the team toward the designated address and mission objective.
“Take it from here, Top.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Move to channel Charlie,” said Mickey across the channel.
He switched to channel twenty-one and all team members did the same. With check-in confirmed, Mickey set the game plan in full motion.
“Move out. Zulu nine.”
The team pressed forward using an impressive array of stealth and defensive coverage. Carefully, they made their way down Brownsville Road, meeting no interference. A few signs of possible human activity in nearby houses, yards or side roads were immediately assessed for threat. An old Burger King restaurant and pizza shop on their left was a veritable volcano of brown rat population, but humans, if around, were keeping a very low profile. None were yet encountered. The team made solid progress until 18:07 when Burroughs, running point, called them to a sudden halt. After a small delay, Mickey and the captain slid beside him. They settled in behind an old, overturned Ford pickup resting on disintegrating asphalt. The weed-infested intersection in front of them led to a street that ran slightly downhill. The bent metal sign of the intersection confirmed the name: Nobles Lane.
“What we got?”
“Captain, I caught movement near that KFC. Just barely, but I think at least three or four unknowns slipped in behind the parking lot.”
“Threat?”
“Dunno. Got the impression they moved real smooth to avoid detection that last few yards once they caught on to us.”
“Military training?”
“Possibly. Be hard to catch sight of us that easy, if they did at all.”
“Agreed. You've had us running good, sir. Top-notch.” Mickey made sure Lieutenant Burroughs knew he was not being blamed for any changes in tactics that might occur based on this newest discovery.
“Uh, huh.”
“Opinions?”
“Those people faded real slow like they knew how to evade without being seen, especially when they were caught out in the open like it seems.”
“Understood.”
“They might have had on large packs, but not sure.”
“Suggestions?” asked Mickey.
Burroughs thought for a moment, keeping his binoculars trained on the KFC.
“Based on map coordinates, we’re about a quarter click from the map target of 915 Brownsville Road. Could be them or they might know of this Connor MacMillen if he was in the area recently.”
“That kinda timing would be pretty weird,” said Mickey.
“Not if you think about it,” mumbled Captain Daubney.
Both Mickey and Burroughs turned to listen.
“Captain?”
“Oh, yeah, sorry about that. I was just thinkin’ to myself.”
“Well continue, sir.”
“Alright. What I’m thinking is the timing might be about right if they were near here. It fits in terms of probable travel from the mill, timewise. Let’s say that Colonel MacMillen was, in fact, near and heard the bird on its flyover. From this area, it looks like we didn’t pass anywhere too close for a visual, so that didn’t happen.”
“Yeah?” asked Mickey.
“But a man trained as Colonel MacMillen, Marty or even Roger for that matter would know the sounds of our bird. So would Jackson and BB, too.”
“Good point.”
“Connor MacMillen could easily think through several tactical options at that juncture.”
“Meaning?” asked Mickey.
“He’d hafta make the high percentage assessment that the bird was probably the same presidential transport he likely saw in Cleveland, which would mean he’d want to wait to see if, in fact, the map made for Amanda was discovered and our team showed up. Not sure what percentage he’d place on that this far out from the Cleveland fiasco. He likely assumes Amanda’s dead by now based on the time lapse.”
“Or?”
“Or, he could assume hostile intent, especially if he’s had any direct dealings with Phoenix and his nasty entourage while making his way through Pittsburgh.”
“Hmm,”
“Let’s not forget that Phoenix is a serious mean dog in this hunt; probably pissed at Connor MacMillen and especially Marty, the sniper. And, it does explain the almost 'forced-march' feel of the army from my perspective. Phoenix's army is clearly goal-directed since they left the mill.”
“I gotta meet those guys that saved our asses. Marty did some fine shootin’ for sure,” said Burroughs.
“Huh, are you forgettin’ about Amanda’s laying her ass on the line?” asked Mickey. His soft spot for Amanda grew daily, almost as much as Scott's.
“Of course not. It’s just that Marty did some serious damage…and he’s Recon.”
“On task, guys, on task,” said the captain.
“Sorry,” said both Burrow and Mickey, embarrassed by their distraction from the current assessment.
“I do appreciate your insights into the matter. Phoenix Justice nearly killed us all before Connor MacMillen and team wrecked his plans. Fuckin’ bastard.” Unable to help himself, the captain spit onto the road in disgust. He found himself losing his focus to anger. He recovered quickly.
“Go on, cap’n,” said Mickey, “I’m listening.”
“Right...I’m wondering if Colonel MacMillen might think that’s a hostile bird, maybe even in the hands of Phoenix. Maybe he wants to leave the area before Phoenix gets a fix on ‘im.”
“Lotta unknowns,” said Mickey.
“Agreed
.”
Mickey checked his watch and Captain Daubney did the same.
“Let's check it out."
“Recommendations, cap’n?” asked Mickey.
“Burroughs, your thoughts?” suggested the captain.
“We secure our position and see what the KFC people are about. Wait fifteen and see if they try to bypass, backtrack or disappear.”
“Agreed. Top?”
Intently studying the weed-infested parking lot of the KFC, Mickey used his binoculars to scan every inch of the area. A battered eighteen-wheeler, long since trashed, blocked a good portion of his view.
“The plan works.”
“Your show, Top.”
“Thank you, sir. We wait here for now. I’ll have Edgars and Simpson make their way down below that row of buildings. They can slip into that alley to do an end around. Burroughs, you take Rice behind that Kroger’s store to the right. We’ll hold position for fifteen. We’ll converge on the KFC. Three clicks on my count. Got it?”
“Understood. Three clicks. After fifteen minutes. I’ll let Edgars know our plan.” Burroughs slipped away and Rice and two men nearby followed at his hand signals.
Mickey studied the area along with Captain Daubney. As a final word on the matter, Mickey turned to Captain Daubney. “You think it could be them, sir?”
“I dunno, let’s put it at maybe twenty percent.”
“Okay.”
“First, let’s see what we got.”
CHAPTER 8.11-The Unveiling
“Mom?”
“Yeah?”
“Can you come to the back building for a sec?”
“For?”
“I wanna show you somethin’.”
“Now, Liam?”
“Yeah, you’ve had your toast and sausage already, right?”
“Hmm, what you got going on? What’s up your sleeve?”
“Nothin”. Just come and see.”
"Did you finish that fancy new recurve bow you and Kev keep workin’ on?”
“No. Still working on it.”
Terry snagged her clay mug filled with chamomile tea off the kitchen table and stood. Absently, she wiped the watermark from the rough-hewn table. Smiling, she smoothed the wrinkles of her white terry-cloth robe and followed Liam onto the deck. Excited, but trying to remain calm, Liam waited. Terry purposefully stopped to study him with a hand on her hip. To her left and off the deck, she spotted Shannon, waiting patiently at the fire pit.
“I see. So you’re both up early. Hmmm. This gets more intriguing by the moment.”
“C’mon, mom!” Liam gently took her free hand, pulling her down the steps. The gentle touch heightened Terry’s awareness. Something was happening, though she was at a loss for what was going on.
“Is everything okay, Liam?”
“Yeah, mom. C’mon.”
“Okay.”
“Hi, Sweetie.”
“Hi Mommy.”
“What’s Liam got that he wants me to see?”
“I ain’t tellin’—Liam made me promise.”
“Is that right?”
“Yep.”
“C’mon, Mom. Quit trying to ruin the surprise. Follow me.” Liam led both Terry and Shannon to the large double doors of the back building. The heavy combination lock rested open in the clasp and the door was slightly askew. In the early dawn, there were several candles already lit inside the large, two-story building. With minimum motion, Liam swung the door open and they walked inside.
“Hey there,” said Margo Haskins. Her bright eyes and beautiful face reflected the light from the candles near the main worktable. Margo was expecting their arrival.
“You’re up early too?” asked Terry, “What gives?” Perplexed, she surveyed the interior of the spacious barn-like structure searching for answers. Margo was not known for rising before nine o'clock on any given day; today was indeed a rarity. The fact that it was six-thirty gave Terry pause. Something was definitely happening.
“Yep, its Liam’s big unveiling. Ahh, and Shannon’s too.”
“Unveiling?”
"Yeah!" Shannon jumped with excitement near Liam. Terry studied her movements.
“What is going on here?”
“It’s a surprise, Mom,” said Liam. He guided her to the back end of the huge worktable, last used to prep grain and repair a solar panel.
“Margo?” asked Terry. Her inquiry was mostly ignored.
“Liam’s show, ma’am.”
“This is strange.”
“Not really, ma’am.”
Liam went to a closed shelving unit and opened the large plywood doors. Reaching inside, he pulled out a large box, carrying it with some effort to the table. Beaming with obvious pride, he sat the box on the table. He motioned for his mother to open it.
“What’s this?”
“Open it,” said Liam.
“Yeah, Mommy, open it.”
“Margo?”
“Ma’am?”
Terry stood before the box with hesitation. For the life of her, she found it difficult to figure out what was going on. Granted, she knew she was in a bit of a fog after spending half the night wrapped in Andy's passionate embrace. Or, perhaps she was simply overly tired from the past few days. Indeed, planning for a double wedding scheduled to take place in less than two weeks was taking its toll.
“What’re you children up to?”
“Open it, mom.”
Terry stalled and studied Margo, sensing the pleasure the young woman was taking in the moment. Terry mentally ran through the skillsets Margo brought to the clan. She was an excellent homeopathic healer, well-educated, and extensively trained in martial arts. She was adept with any firearm. But, she was most recognized for her incredible seamstress abilities.
“You make something for the wedding?” asked Terry. She began to have her suspicions. Until, it all came as a rush of the obvious. Kicking herself mentally, she wondered how she’d missed the signs.
“Open the box, ma’am.”
Terry opened the box and a beautiful, thick black fur caught the candlelight with ease.
“Oh, it’s the bear coat, for Mac,” she said mostly to herself. Moving slowly, she lifted the full-length coat from the box, unfolding it in a gentle cascade before her. Her first thought was how smooth and supple the fur was to caress. Her second was how well tailored it was with a nice black cloth stitched inside to maximize wearing comfort. She touched the soft, three-inch cuffs formed at the sleeves.
“It’s heavy,” she said, “My, it’s heavy.”
“Wouldn’t be heavy for daddy,” said Shannon.
“Yeah, not for dad.”
Terry glanced at her children. She stole a quick glance at Margo, before the oncoming wave of pain and loss washed over her. Her knees buckled for a second.
“Oh,” said Terry. Tears welled up to the point that she could no longer see. She ran her sleeve across her eyes.
“Don’t you like it, mommy?” asked Shannon.
“No, honey, I do. It’s probably the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
“It’s for dad.”
“Yeah, I know, Liam…I know.” Terry cried softly, touching the coat. She held the sleeve to her lips, sniffing.
Liam came around the worktable to stand beside her, picking up the coat by the wide collar. Reverently, he stroked the soft fur. He was amazed at the soft texture that Andy's fur preparation expertise and Margo's seamstress abilities had created. He decided to thank Andy and Margo again for the patient efforts and preparation taken with the bear fur during the past month. A small pang of remorse surfaced when he thought of a few impatient, snide comments.
“Thank you, Miss Margo.”
“You’re welcome, Liam.”
All stared at the coat. Liam turned to Margo.
“Can we maybe talk to my mom in private, now?”
“Of course.”
“It’s a good coat, ma’am.”
“Yes, umm…thank you, Margo. It's beautiful.�
��
Margo left with a small smile, but not before giving Shannon a quick hug. Exiting the door, she closed it most of the way.
“You like it, Mom?”
“It’s gorgeous. So soft.”
Liam waved Shannon to the other side of their mother. She wrapped her arms around the white robe. Liam cleared his throat.
“He’s my dad. He’s Shannon’s dad, too, mom. I know you know that, but I can’t not think he’s coming back—I just can’t. Not yet. Not ever.”
“Ahh,” said Terry.
“Don’t get me wrong, Mom, Uncle Andy’s great. The best. And if…but, I …”
“Oh, sweetie…it's okay.”
“He’s coming back…that’s what he said…he promised.”
Liam choked on the last words, staring at the innocence in the eyes of his sister. Tears streamed hard, as he softly stroked the coat. Anxious and confused, Shannon stared at Liam and up into her mother’s eyes.
“Mommy? Why’s everyone crying? Liam? I thought we were going to make mommy happy.”
“Shh, honey. I’m okay. It’s okay. I am happy. It’s a beautiful gift. I love it.”
“Okay.” Shannon settled into the deep hug.
“You’re both so grown up. Look at you.”
Terry turned to Liam. He would soon tower above her. She reached for him, embracing him hard while Shannon tightened her grip to stay wrapped around her hips.
“I can’t forget about Daddy.”
“I never, ever would want that, Liam.”
“He’s not dead. We don’t know that.”
“No, we don’t, honey. But—”
“He’s not dead.” Liam pushed from the embrace, lifting the coat in his hands. Gathering a firm set to his jaw, he held the coat before her.
“No one wears this but my dad. No one!”
The conviction pulsed in his words and Terry sought some way to suggest that Connor Mac was not coming back and was likely dead after all these years.
“Honey, we can keep that coat tightly wrapped in that box until that day comes.”
“Good. I will.”
“But, I want you to think about the time that’s gone by—think about the devastation left behind by the flu, the H5N1. Think of the diseases that came after.”